the untold flight

i soared abov and between the earth, moon and sun. she wanted to use binoculars. when we spoke of my limited means, she was very accepting of having to view certain circumstances from the porch below. i could see her, of course, even with the clouds obscuring the eclipse.

we disagree on the moon’s colour, something that united us in the past. maybe it is because i have such close ties to the tides. my future forms with a change in the weather, said the duo atop the great chair, at least. More grit, more drama, more, more, more. who does one think one is? Billy Idol?

what plans do the next century have for me? how long can i blend in amongst the flesh?

yours in existence,

AJ

open the floodgates

38

open the floodgates and let these angels float away.

the alien-joseph 08.09.03 04:30 PM

following scoundrels

like birds on the wave

7187

times of the will….

did you ever think the hubbub would rise like prairies in the sitting well?

too many brains

without course of action.

i’m gonna buy some fun and watch it glow

they just sit to the left ’cause they never know

burning strings added on the fire

helpless stares that add to the wire

at the side of the road

don’t forward yourself to the entrance.

looking through the glass, there, mother.

the love of he who remains…

save your tears

Week 209

I say … and you think … ?

  1. Plaster :: casting aside the will
  2. Cabbage :: in the butterman
  3. Jazz :: play, strays and musics around the base
  4. Darts :: that make funny shapes and take you over the hill
  5. Poke :: and you’ll find the weird dream with opening credits and lost pathways
  6. Bribe :: enforcement
  7. Whale :: on bessie
  8. Receipt :: of date and recipes straid sidewards (exposition too long, cold and damp)
  9. Answer :: the question
  10. Dentist :: in need of, now.

unconcious mutterings.

because the world is not gruff

a man would not return the basics. what is this, an answer farm? mustard for the jelly?

insinuate everything btwing.

indi-ash

the dreams of the living don’t make sense

until you count the pathogens; the patterns are unreal